


Déjà vu

by Owari26



Series: Déjà vu [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Anal Sex, Angel/Demon Relationship, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood and Gore, Fights, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owari26/pseuds/Owari26
Summary: One born from chaos and destruction, bound to the sufferings from hell. One born from heavenly passion but cursed with the dark. At first, they seem different like night and day but in a world full of pain they soon realize they aren't so different after all.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy story, don't read if you're looking for fluff and a happy ending ;-) There is plenty of violence and angst.  
> My fic for the Bleach Big Bang.   
> I want to thank my friend Ficticiousdelicous, he had to listen to all my ramblings and I made him read all of it xD Also, Rook! I've teased you so much with all the pinning and smut, thank you for putting up with me.

Amber eyes locked  onto cerulean ones, for a moment the world stopped, entire solar systems came to life and died in that instant. A strange dream - like feeling washed over the orange haired young male as they fell into each other's eyes, entire lifetimes and countless nights full of passion surged through his head, but because the brain cannot possibly fathom such things, it only manifests as a strange feeling of déjà vu. 

The Middle  Ages

The world was a different place, unforgiving and cruel for its inhabitants as life was a constant struggle to survive. Sickness and starvation roamed the streets, digging their claws deep into innocent people. As a result of all those hardships, mankind was mindless, weak and easy to influence. The humans thought they held sovereignty over their realm, but they were oblivious of the constant battle between  two superior races. Those two opposites fought for the control of the human mind, and thus the human realm.

The demons dwelled below the surface of the earth. They were malevolent creatures, created in the flames of the abyss and ruled by Lord  Aizen . He was the dark lord born from the Old-World, long before humans even existed. Once a trusted general of the highest order of creation. The order followed the visions of  Ilùginem the ‘creator’ but rather than staying true to that vision like his fellow beings,  Aizen wanted to create, sculpt the world to his own twisted vision. And so, he was banned and forced to live below the surface, where he could only warp and corrupt what already existed. Ages passed and the Old-World came to an end. Being exiled in solitude, the Dark lord began building his own dominion; the underworld. When the world finally began to see more diversity, he started experimenting with life itself.  With so ul fusing and soul creating, abominable things came into existence. Twisted deformed things with skin bubbling black like acid crawled through the pits of hell. It took  Aizen another hundred years before he’d finally perfected his creations and made the Espada demons. They were the dark Lord’s personal army; their task was to persuade humans to give in to their dark side. The demons appeared when sins left the ‘door’ open, invading their minds and pushing them slowly to the brink of destruction. Human nature was already deeply distorted and disturbed so it was easy to whisper a few things and just watch those vile seeds of envy, greed and wrath grow and expand until a person was completely consumed by it.

On the opposite site reigned the angels. They were descendants of  Ilùginem , dwelling in settlements hidden between the clouds and tasked with the guidance of life. Just like the demons, they were creatures without a physical  mortal  body but with a form adapted to the spiritual realm. Angels existed long before the demons were created,  they’d seen humans evolve from mindless apes to something a bit more intelligent. But with that intelligence came a prize, humans gathered together and began praying to gods. This made them very easy to influence and the demons created by  Aizen could finally reign free and accomplish his goal; persuade souls to succumb to the darkness.  It was the angels' job now to try and convince the humans to come back to the good side, to inspire people to do good, but this was not an easy task. When humans endure so many hardships, they tend to give in to their dark desires. They fail to see even the small rays of hope sent by the angels; love and happiness can be found in even the darkest of places if one only remembers to turn on the light.

From the shadows,  another being  watched this constant battle between the demons and angels. He was a subordinate from  Ilùginem and had  witnessed the dawn  of the angels. Essentially immune to the ravages of time, his task was to watch and document, never interfere. But with the creation of the demons and the dawn of human civilization came different tasks, and  Urahara was now the keeper of the balance; demons and angels must never mingle with each other  or this would destroy the  equilibrium between good and evil, between light and dark in the world.  Urahara reigned alone  in his dominion for his power is limited to the spiritual realm.  Being bound to the plains of the spirit world didn’t mean this God was oblivious,  Urahara was devious and calculated, always one step ahead of everybody else, but he hid his wittiness behind a stripped fan and a goofy smile.  Through divine interference or sheer coincidence, the humans referred to  Urahara as their one God. 

Urahara only  had one  rule to preserve the delicate balance: demons and angels must never interact with each other, friendship was strictly forbidden between the two different races, and love was even unimaginable. He explained that it was unholy, unnatural and it would disturb the balance of the world.  Relationships with humans were allowed but only the incubi indulged themselves in such lowly creatures. Without even knowing it, humans were tied to that balance. Souls of good people go to heaven, corrupted souls went to hell, and it was the task of the spiritual beings to try and convince those souls to pick a side.

Demons and angels  are opposites of each other  and would never even think about interacting. So, keeping the balance was never  really  a problem until the demon of destruction laid his eyes upon vibrant orange hair.


	2. Necessary evil

Grimmjow Jaegerjaeques, the demon of destruction, was a spectacular sight to behold. Made by God’s image, as if to mock his very existence. A tall and muscular body sculpted to perfection, every slab of muscle hard and unforgiving. Unruly cerulean hair framed his sharp features, but what stood out the most w ere his vibrant blue eyes. They seemed to bore deep into your soul, smoldering passion in a layer of ice, like fire dancing on water, something otherworldly but deeply mesmerizing. Everything about him screamed divine perfection if it wasn’t for the big ram horns sprouting from the side of his head and the enormous bat-like wings that spread out behind him.

Grimmjow’s demon aspect was to spread chaos and persuade humans to destroy the things they cared about.  He reveled in the feeling it gave him, with an almost feral grin on his face he watched as the subject of his torments gave in to the self-destructive behavior.

Unknown to the blue haired demon, what’s meant to be will always find a way, and on what seemed like any other dreadful day, the wheel of fate started turning.

Walking through the passages of the underworld, the blue haired demon dragged his clawed fingers across the obsidian walls . He was tired and worn  out  from a scouting mission in the human realm and on his way to his  own  chambers . The same routine over and over again made his brain numb, always spying on humans, waiting for a  chance to persuade them. He’d been cooped up for too long, his powers held on a leash by an ancient being nobody dared to defy. But chaos can’t be controlled; it needs to run free. Every fiber in his body ached for a real challenge, something good to destroy.

Uncertain shuffling steps snapped him out of  his thoughts . 

“What do you want?” Grimmjow rumbled, tapping his foot rapidly, he just wanted to be left-the-fuck-alone for a few hours. 

“L-lord  Aizen has summoned you in his quarters...” stuttered the  numeros . 

Grimmjow flexed his claws a few times, “What does that prick want now?”

“He-he  has ordered everyone to attend a  meeting” The little creature trembled as it spoke. 

The blue haired demon snorted, “yeah off course he  did ,” his claws sank deep into soft flesh, cracking effortlessly through ribs. The wet snapping sound echoed along the walls. Its sickly purple body slumped to the floor like an ungainly doll, hideous limbs twisted and deformed as blackish goo  pooled out of it. Probably not a smart move to attack one of  Aizen’s personal minions he thought, but he’d deal with that later. 

“Ugh, gross.” Grimmjow curled his lip as he squeezed the still thumping heart. Arteries dangled from the heart like raffled rope ends in a grotesque display of blackened blood. Thump-thump-until it  burst open under the increasing pressure. One last thump caused what was left of it inside the heart to pour out like rotten egg-yolk. The tar-like blood ran slowly down his arm as he watched the last spasms of life die.

Grimmjow flicked the blood  off his hands as he stepped over the corpse, a bloody black lump of meat. Two large yellow eyeballs stared at him from under the mass of flesh. Its teeth bared in a snarl as if to voice his  complaints , but the creature didn’t stand a change, dead before it could even comprehend what was happening. 

Tiny deformed bat-like creatures scurried along the walls as the demon continued his way to his abysmal master, he hated  Aizen , the ruler of the demon realm. He wore the skin of a human, but deep down he was a despicable vile creature. No demon had ever seen his true form and lived to tell the tale. 

_ Ugh-cocky bastard _ , he thought as he stood before the huge alabaster door to  Aizen’s private chamber. Even after all those centuries he still thought it was stupid, what kind of asshole puts a pristine white door into the pits of hell. And  of course , the hideous thing was carved out with tacky designs; people screaming in agony, drowning into the sea of dying bodies as  Aizen sat there on top of his throne with a smug grin on his face. The inscription above the door was the only thing that was somewhat fitting, ** “abandon all hope ye who enter here”,  ** this was hell after all. 

Grimmjow didn’t bother to knock, upon pushing the huge doors open, he was met with the sight of the other  Espada gathered around the large stone meeting table. Not everyone was present,  Baragan had other things to do as usual, and a few of the lower ranked  Espada weren’t even summoned. Must be important if he only wants the higher ups, Grimmjow thought.

“You summoned me,  Aizen ?”  He growled out; annoyance clear in his voice. 

“You do not speak to the Lord like that, filthy animal.” One of the  Espada stated. “Or do I have to beat some manners into you?” 

“I love to see you try green eyed asshole!” Grimmjow snapped, flaring his wings open. That little slimy bastard  Ulquiorra always got under his wings. Mister perfect,  Aizen’s little boot kisser,  _ if he could just twist his sword deep into those cold green eyes... _

“Enough!” The Lord spoke firmly. “I didn’t summon you here to fight with my other  Espada .” 

“Sit down Grimmjow.” Lord  Aizen’s deep voice rumbled through the massive concave room, drawing Grimmjow’s attention to the center.

The demon rolled his eyes though, even centuries serving under the Dark Lord couldn’t break his will completely. Grimmjow wasn’t part of the more trusted inner circle of  Aizen’s demons. Strong enough, but lower ranked because of the attitude. He turned on his heels and made way to his own seat at the table, he could deal with the scrawny asshole later. 

Once that was settled,  Aizen took place on top of his giant throne, it was made of the scorched skeleton of an ancient wyvern, a demonic dragon from the old world. It’s  hindlegs formed the base of the chair while the creature’s tail curved around it to form a weird boney armrest. The spine  formed the back of the throne. Gaping jaws loomed over the head of  Aizen as if he wasn’t intimidating enough alone. Massive bone wings arched around and over the back of the throne, protecting its eternal master. 

“Now that’s settled”,  Aizen continued, shifting his leg over the other. “I’m going to explain the plans for the next missions. 

Grimmjow leaned in to  his  chair, the roughness of the stone pressing into his back. He hated these boring meetings, he wanted to do things, destroy stuff, not just sit here and listen to that prick. 

“ Szayel is responsible for the research and development of new ways to use the human souls.”  Aizen said, sipping from his tea.

His sickly-sweet voice was already grating on every nerve, Grimmjow hated listening to  Aizen’s boring meeting talk. Everything about it seemed so pointless, they were demons, not an army of trained soldiers trying to invade a kingdom. Demons destroyed, spread chaos, and watched the world burn, how hard could it be?

Cerulean eyes traveled across the room, he vaguely noted something about  Ulquiorra being send to the North. Good, he thought, the cold regions were fitting for that emotionless bastard. The flickering candles spread out across the walls of the caved room caught his eye. They burned bright and hot, dancing into hues of orange and yellow. Grimmjow stared into the flames, he could almost see them getting more intense, blazing and dancing out of their containment. If he listened closely, his thoughts could hear the flames roaring for joy as they rampaged through the cave. In his mind he was just like those flames, untamed and ravenous, hungrily devouring everything in his path. If he could just-

“Grimmjow!”  Aizen spoke firmly. “Did you even pay attention to anything besides the wall you’ve been staring at for the past hour?”

A shiver ran up Grimmjow’s spine, fuck, had he really been spacing out that long. 

“Grimmjow, stay for a while, would you.”  Aizen asked, running a hand trough slicked back hair. “The rest is dismissed.” 

“What for?” Grimmjow growled out without a thought while the others hurried out of the throne room. He wanted to curse, fuck, that wasn’t a smart thing to say.

“I would prefer if you showed some respect, stand up!”  Aizen demanded, his eyes unreadable. 

“Tsk-fine.” Grimmjow drawled, walking over to the throne, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. 

“Grimmjow, my most prized warrior, I have a personal mission for you.”  Aizen smiled, but it was fake, a smile mastered to perfection over the course of centuries. He had the whole world hidden behind it, nobody knew, it could literally mean anything. That intimidating smile could be the last thing you saw before your life ended with a finger snap.

“ Tsch cut the flattering crap and just tell me what to do,  Aizen .” The blue haired demon fidgeted. He felt uncomfortable under the intense gaze of his lord, but Grimmjow held his cocky attitude. He knew already he was in trouble, better go down as a warrior instead of all those syrupy sweet words cutting like knives.

“My, my, Grimmjow, no need to be so rude, I just need you to stir some things up in the human realm. We need violence and death ; war brings us that. Those poor tortured human souls provide us with spirit energy, and as you know, the underworld needs that to thrive.”  Aizen explained. 

“ Seireiti and  Hueco Mundo have a truce, but I want that to change.”  Aizen’s expression shifted to something unreadable. “Spread chaos, destroy trade routes, kill somebody important, you know the drill.”  Aizen waved at Grimmjow in dismissal. 

“I can do that.” Grimmjow straightened his back and flashed him his most maniacal grin. “Spreading chaos and destroying things is my specialty after all.” He turned to leave, sighing softly, that had been easier than he thought. 

“Oh, and Grimmjow,”  Aizen’s aura hammered down like an anvil, forcing Grimmjow to his knees. In a flash of blinding white fire, he was next to the demon. 

_ Fuck, he should’ve known better... _

“If you ever kill something that’s mine again, I’m going to make sure you regret it.” He grabbed the demon by the throat, claws slicing easily through the hardened skin, and forced him to make eye contact. 

“And I would prefer if you called me Lord, am I clear!” It wasn’t a question, but a statement that promised pain if Grimmjow wouldn’t obey him.

“Y-yes my Lord,” he stammered.

One wave of  Aizen’s hand and Grimmjow was thrown out of the throne room. He crashed into the rough obsidian rocks, still couching for air.  _ Arrogant prick _ , he thought as he got up and staggered back to his own chambers.  _ One day I will rule over this damned place. _

As he got to his own chamber, he could still feel the aura of  Aizen creeping over his skin. His private chamber was the only place down in this godforsaken place where he could truly relax. The low ceiling and the obsidian walls made his mind feel a bit more at ease. Stripping out of his black leather pants and top, he walked over to the back-end of his room. With a groan, he stepped down into the lower part, obscured from view by carved out obsidian pillars. Carved out into the rocks and lit by a single torch, there was a pool filled with liquid blue hellfire taking up most of the lower end. 

Sighing, Grimmjow submerged himself into the water. He closed his eyes as the hellfire washed over his muscles, relieving the strain. The eerie blue substance didn’t behave like normal water, it was more like a liquid thick soul soup, buzzing slightly as it slowly healed.

Gasping, the blue haired demon emerged from the fire; blue drops ran in thick rivulets down his muscular back. Hours had passed since that meeting with  Aizen , but he could still feel the buzz in his head. His breath calmed down as he dragged his hand through his hair, expecting  Aizen’s grip still around his throat. 

Grimmjow got up and walked over to the other side where his clothes were stored. He preferred his clothes tight, black and accentuating his muscular body. A long-sleeved short cut top that left enough room for his wings and black low-rise pants combined with leather boots. 

A blue aura filled the room as the blue-haired demon slowly called upon his magnificent dark wings. If needed he could hide them into the twilight realm, just like his sword. Big shoulder muscles bulged and flexed and in a single motion, his massive wings propelled him easily forward to the  portal. What Grimmjow didn't know was, that on the opposite side, an angel was sent to preserve the peace. 

A wild grin appeared on Grimmjow’s face as he arrived in the human realm through the  Obscura Darvaza , the burning  Hellmouth of death. His pulse sped up, surging through the blazing flames as the familiar stench of sulfur assaulted his senses. 

He folded his black wings against his body and arched them again in a surprisingly graceful glide. His muscular shape stood out against the sky above him, but he didn’t care, humans wouldn’t notice him. The demon could invade human minds and plant malevolent ideas in their feeble thoughts but was invisible to mere mortal eyes. 

Below him, the woodland stretched out as far as he could see. A river, wild and untamed, cut through the dense forest. Soaring over the river, the demon decided to follow it. He flew for hours, exploring and looking for human settlement. He loved flying, he was meant to run wild, like a deep call from within him. He couldn’t deny that powerful feeling of soaring freely into the sky, of untamed wild chaos,  _ of true freedom.  _


	3. More of fire than blood

By the time he reached the edge of the forest, the sun was already burning bright yellow on the horizon. He flew until he spotted something that shone with the intensity of a thousand suns, burning orange dancing in the wind. As he flew closer, he realized it was the bright, orange hair of an angel, it stood up in a spiky defiance, dancing like flames in the wind. 

The demon set foot on land, his wings folding behind him on reflex. 

“Oi, carrot top! What are you doing here?” Rumbled Grimmjow in his low baritone voice. 

The angel, surprised for a split second by the unwelcome visitor,  snapped around in one fluid motion. His feathers bristling to match his seething temper.

“What I do here is none of your damn business you blue haired freak!”  The angel spat; his honey brown eyes narrowed to slits. 

Grimmjow, taken aback by the snarky attitude, shot him a devilish grin. “Ooh, we have a feisty one! He liked this angelic creature’s attitude; he was a bit smaller than him and had a lighter but wired frame but despite that he had no problem having a big mouth against an obvious bigger demon. Grimmjow smirked, he liked that, he liked that a lot, maybe he could have some fun out of this.

Ichigo stepped closer, lips drawn in a sneer. D emon or not,  screw that guy. “What the  hell do you even want?” 

“You’re a rude little shit for an angel.” Grimmjow grinned, lowering his body in response. “Let’s see if your fists are just as feisty.” Maybe this was the distraction he needed. Vivid blue eyes seemed to glow with excitement as his gaze settled on the angel.

A sharp pain suddenly jolted through his jaw. Staggering back, the demon shook his head. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. “Nice, you caught me off guard, second hit isn’t going to be that easy.” Grimmjow grinned, spitting out the bloody saliva. 

“Less talking, more fighting.” The angel taunted, dashing away  with a sharp snap of his wings.

Grimmjow took that as a sign, he wasn’t going to hold back. Black wings  stretching  out behind him, he lunged forward. The angel swiveled in his direction with a mighty cry, his eyes a golden blaze. Both met with a resounding punch. The force of the blow made both creatures stumble apart before diving back at each other.

The orange-haired angel smiled then, amused by the demon’s attacks. “Is that all you got blue?” 

Grimmjow didn’t hesitate, eyes narrowed in determination he shot forward, fists raining down on the angel with the force of a raging bull. But no matter how hard he punched, none of them connected, the angelic creature managed to evade or block them all. 

Blood sang in his veins at the thought of a real challenge. “Those are good eyes, angel”, Grimmjow smirked infuriatingly. “You look like you want to kill me, I hate those eyes!” He’d underestimated this young creature at first, but he was thrilled to finally fight a worthy opponent. 

The demon attacked again with a manic grin on his face, his fists slamming down until his opponent finally found an opening. Grimmjow growled in pain as he heard the sharp cracking noise of one of his ribs. That one was going to hurt for a while. 

The angel flashed a smile, eyes bright with glee and  large mahogany brown  wings bristling  in excitement.  “I thought you were going to be a challenge demon, but you disappoint me!” 

Grimmjow felt ecstatic now, his wings flaring slow, “I’m not done yet carrot top, just warming up.”

Sensing the angel approach again, the demon spun around and spread his wings low with a harsh snap of muscle. The sharp tips of his leathery wings sliced into the flesh of the angel, drawing blood but not deep enough to halt his attack.

Grimmjow felt the skin over his cheekbone splitting due to the force of the angels’ counterattack. Despite being hit, he felt good,  _ alive,  _ pleased rage ran under his skin. He wanted to hurt the other for that hit,  _ destroy him, _ but part of him loved it that the angel fought back so hard.

Both creatures were rather evenly matched, sometimes landing a blow, but they held their ground. Panting slightly from exhaustion, the two creatures flared their wings as they drew closer again. It was a true sight to behold; they moved around each other, almost looking like a deadly dance between predators while blocking hits and throwing punches. 

The angel smiled again, looking pleased as he side stepped around the demon. Grimmjow could feel those golden-brown eyes taking in his every moment, waiting for a change, an opening. 

But Grimmjow didn’t give him time to think, he lashed out, hard.

The angel twisted at the waist and lashed out with his feathery wings, knocking Grimmjow’s foot from under him and slamming him belly down to the ground. “You missed.” The angel mocked slowly. 

“Get the fuck off filthy angel! Grimmjow snapped, lip curled in a snarl. How the hell was that angel so agile? He moved like water slipping through his fingers. 

“ Sssh !” His low voice brutal. They were pressed together front to back. The angel fisted his hand into wild blue locks, jerking the demon’s head back. “My name is Ichigo, you damn blue freak,” He growled against his ear. “Remember that the next time I kick your ass.” There was no real bite in his words, only a hint of amusement. 

Grimmjow flared his wings in an attempt to get free, one harsh shove of his elbow and the other tumbled into the dust. He could feel every muscle in his body ache, even breathing was painful. His left hand felt broken and a few ribs were definitely cracked but despite everything he had a grin on his face. 

The angel lying next to him was in no better condition, his feathers ruffled and torn, bruises all over his skin and smiling like a damn idiot. 

“Oi blue, that was a pretty good fight, we should do that again sometime, it was fun.” Ichigo grinned, spitting out the blood from his busted lip.

“My name is  Grimmjow , you winged idiot.” The demon growled out, running a clawed hand through his disheveled hair. “ I will kill you someday! ”

“I’d love to see you try”,  Ichigo smirked, staggering to his feet. “Promise me.” The angel insisted, reaching his hand out to the demon. 

“I’m a demon, promises don’t mean shit for me.”  Grimmjow grinned but he grabbed the angel’s hand anyway, letting himself being pulled up until they were inches apart. “But I will fight you forever until I can kill you.” He declared, spreading his wings out and pushing himself off the ground. “Until we meet again  Ichigo !”  Grimmjow shouted, looking back one more time. 

After the encounter,  Ichigo dragged his tired body to his favorite hiding place in the human realm, a beautiful lakeside with a huge Jacaranda tree. He loved to sit under it and just  get lost into his own thoughts . Every muscle ached now that the adrenaline had worn of and he would definitely have some nasty bruises but he didn't have any significant damage, maybe a few cracked ribs, but overall, he would heal up fast. 

Ichigo gazed up at the tree, noticing the blue flowers; his thoughts immediately going to the blue-haired demon. Something about that cerulean haired menace intrigued him, the way he carried himself ; confident and stubborn. Shifting his weight back, he closed his eyes.  _ Damn, it's been a while since I had such an entertaining fight _ he thought.


	4. From the dark, she calls to me

Meanwhile,  Grimmjow was back in the demon realm to report his findings. He staggered through the carved hallways, trying to hide his broken wrist and suppress the grin on his face before he reported to  Aizen .  His mind drifting to that orange haired idiot, he hoped he would run into him again someday.  Grimmjow sucked in a breath through his teeth he paused, darkness stirring beneath his skin, curious for that new challenge, longing to destroy it. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, wincing at the reminder of his damaged wrist. Thoughts drifting to that fight, he continued his path to the Dark Lord’s chamber.

Once again, he found himself before the huge alabaster doors. His breath hitched in his throat and he lifted his  hand to knock on the door. He’d learned his lesson the hard way last time, he didn’t need more of that. 

“You may enter!” The voice echoed through the hallways.

Grimmjow pushed the doors open and stepped forward, he was supposed to bow for his Lord, but the demon refused to bow for anyone, his pride wouldn’t let him.  He couldn’t change  his nature; destruction does not bow down to the whims of others. 

“Aah  Grimmjow , entertain me, will you? Tell me about the things you’ve accomplished.”  Aizen stated. His slim, too perfect fingers curled around a black goblet. He blinked, far too slow to be remotely human. Deep brown eyes settled onto the demon,  eyes that held many secrets but he kept them locked inside. If you gazed for too long, you would find yourself drawn to those pools of mahogany until they hungrily enveloped yours.

Grimmjow swallowed a few times before he mustered the courage to talk , the unnerving feeling that something was about to lunge for his throat creeping up along his spine.

“Lord  Aizen , the angels are aware of our actions, they have already sent one of their own to disturb our plans. I was engaged in battle with an orange - haired angel, but he managed to get away.”

“ Hhm . Have you accomplished your goal? Did you at least spread some chaos?”  Aizen sat up and let his piercing gaze fall on the demon. He looked calm while he was sipping from his tea, but Grimmjow knew better than to trust that serene look on his face. His eyes told a different story. They were a deep and earthy brown, like the earth after heavy rainfall. But there was something else glistening deep inside, like powerful flames that were licking and burning everything in his path. Those eyes held an all-consuming hatred for every creature that dared to interfere with his plans.

“N-no, the angel  int \- “

“Silence! You have failed Grimmjow! I will not tolerate that.”  Aizen stood up and wandered over to the demon.

“You’re hurt,” he stated, snatching Grimmjow’s wrist and squeezing harshly. “I can’t let that happen”

Grimmjow wanted to scream in agony, shout a litany of curses, but all he did was grit his teeth. Pain was  a  weakness, he couldn’t show it, wouldn’t show it to this prick.

“You’re weak Grimmjow,  Aizen’s sickly sweet voice continued, “maybe I should send  Ulquiorra to do your job instead.” 

-Weak! -

“No, I’ll do it!” Grimmjow snapped through the pain as the words rang through his head. He had pride, there was no way he was going to let that emotionless bastard do his job instead.

Aizen kept circling around his underling like a dangerous shark hunting down his prey,  his face frozen in an emotionless expression,  waiting for any sign of weakness, an opening to take.

Grimmjow let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, mangled ribs shifted and a soft groan escaped his lips. It was enough of an opening for the demon lord.

Aizen’s aura  pressed in on him, consuming him,  _ invading _ __ him, he could feel it everywhere at once.

“I’ll show you what it means to be mine Grimmjow,  _ mine!”  _ A distorted voice whispered in his ear.

The pain of countless tormented souls surged up with violence. He tried to blink but the still darkness stayed. Shadows muddled in the corner of his eyes as Grimmjow’s soul screamed in agony, dropping to his knees as the pain became too much to bear. 

Aizen laughed. “How does it feel to have all that evil inside of you? Feel their pain!” He bellowed, walking in a slow circle around the demon.

He could feel them clawing at his soul, hissing and howling voices raging through his head. He pulled his wings closer in a desperate attempt to protect himself but he couldn’t shield from the pain coursing through his veins. So much hatred, it was too much, they were destroying him from the inside, consuming him,  _ breaking _ him.

An agonizing scream echoed through the hallways as Grimmjow’s pride finally broke under the strain. 

In a blinding flash, it was all gone again. Cerulean eyes snapped open, shoulders heaving as the air suddenly left his lungs. The silence intruding his soul was even worse, it pressed in on him, a sudden itch crawling under his skin.

Aizen just smiled like nothing happened. “I assume you’re going to do better now.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” Grimmjow grunted, scrambling to his feet. He hurried out of the throne room as fast as he could. Why did that prick always chose him? As long as he could remember,  Aizen always picked on him, like a predator hunting the weak. But he wasn’t weak, far from it, he was the only one who put up a fight, the only one who dared talking back and he still wasn’t strong enough.

Grimmjow shook his head, trying to get rid of the voices still screaming in the back of his mind. It wasn’t fair, why not one of the other  Espada , why always him. But life isn’t fair, it never is, that is something he’d learned the hard way. All this chaos and destruction, only to be tied down by a bigger asshole. 

He grit his teeth and continued walking down the winding hallways, he didn’t know how to defeat  Aizen , but someday he was going to be strong enough,  someday he would slash his claws into that asshole and wipe that smug- His thoughts abruptly came to a halt when something collided harshly against him. 

“Ouch, Grimmie. Watch where you’re going.” A startled female voice growled out. 

It took  Grimmjow a moment to notice the other Espada in his line of sight. “ Neliel , why the fuck are you even here?” He snapped, stepping up so he towered over the teal haired demon. 

Nel felt those piercing eyes on her but she didn’t care. “You’re the asshole walking around without looking.” Her voice was calm, she didn’t fear the demon of destruction, she knew he wasn’t going to hurt her. 

Grimmjow stared at her, eyes snapping to his arm when he felt her soft fingers brush against his skin, slowly tracing the purple bruises on his wrist. “What are you doing?” He growled, a flash of shame in his eyes. He didn’t want her to be concerned. He didn’t want others to notice his failures, his weaknesses.

Nel watched him with a concerned expression. “You’re hurt and you look like you’re about to kill someone. Do you want to talk about it?” She didn’t have to ask what happened; she could feel Aizen’s aura lingering on him.

“No.”  Grimmjow grunted, letting out a heavy breath as he gently pulled his arm away from her questioning touch. He tore his eyes away from her, hoping she wouldn’t continue to question him. He couldn’t lie to her; those big soft doe-like eyes always saw right through him. 

“ Hhm .” She mused, twirling a lock of teal hair between her fingers. “You want to finish our fight?”  Neliel asked, her eyes raking over  Grimmjow’s body.

Grimmjow sighed. “Fine, I’ll kick your ass again.”  Grimmjow knew she asked this with a reason, it was in her nature; giving and taking, always trying to balance things. But he didn’t care, the thought of relieving some of his tention sounded like a good idea. 

A smile spread across Nel’s face, reading his reluctant agree as a silent thank you. “The usual spot?” 

Grimmjow grinned, his sword already humming in anticipation “Yeah, the usual.” 

Nel turned and walked away, leading the way to Abaddon; their personal training grounds. She didn’t look back to see if  Grimmjow would follow or not, there was no need to, she’d felt the subtle change in his aura when he agreed to fight, she knew he needed to unwind. 

She walked fast, her bare feet silently sliding across the stone floor while  Grimmjow trailed a step behind her. By nature, they were supposed to hate each other; balance and chaos, both considered outcasts by the rest of the demon’s for vastly different reasons but somehow, they had found comfort with each other down in the abyss. 

As they reached the large staircase leading down to Abaddon, Nel broke the silence, studying her opponent with the eye of a trained warrior. “You sure you can fight with that?” She motioned to  Grimmjow’s wrist. 

Grimmjow dropped his voice and hissed. “The day I can’t fight anymore is the day I die!” 

Nel smirked, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” 

“Tsk.”  Grimmjow chided. “That doesn’t mean much coming from one who always expects both the good and the bad things.”

“I guess you’re right.” Nel affirmed as she descended down the roughly chiseled out stairway. “But that does not mean I can’t pick a side.” 

“That sounds like cheating.”  Grimmjow scoffed, following her down the stairs. 

“Hey! I’m not a cheater, it’s just creative use of my abilities.” She countered, moving with a light spring in her step, yet her movements made no noise as she continued her path.

Grimmjow smiled at his old companion. “We never change, do we.” He dragged his hands across the stone walls, the tip of his claws scratching the surface. Every time he came down here, a strange sense of nostalgia invaded his senses. Ghostly echoes from a past long gone were scattered across the rough stone; large skeletal remains could be found resting in the walls, broken and forgotten ages ago. Their stories now legends from another era. The stairs led down to the entrance ; a wide arched boney structure reminding Grimmjow of a cracked ribcage that had been spread open and scorched in the fires of hell. But the dramatic display was nothing compared to the vast wasteland that lay behind the entrance. Once an impressive underground settlement, now nothing more than a graveyard for the fallen ones. 

Large  black leathery wings unfurled behind the demon, the clawed tips sharp and itching for blood. Beside him, Nel leaped high into the air, unlike  Grimmjow she lacked wings. She moved through the world as if she was one with it, stepping through the sky like a creature that could fly or sliding across the landscape without damaging a single leaf of grass. “Come and chase me.  I'll promise to go slow.” She mocked from a distance. 

Grimmjow’s aura spiked, hues of blue swirling around him. He howled, bragging his power, a rise to the challenge she’d thrown out. His massive wings beat downwards as he pushed off the rocks and left the looming entrance behind him. 

They both soared over the dead landscape, their silhouettes barely visible against the dreary dark sky. Below, the land stretched out on all sides, a charred lifeless realm scattered with cold grey crevices. Despair drenched the soil; glowing hues of orange dripped from the sky, reminding  Grimmjow of blood soaking the land. Deformed peaks rose from the ground, no more than a barely discernable silhouette against the eternal darkness. Even now, after ages of coming here, it still gave the demon an uneasy feeling. 

Nel was the first to come to a halt,  Grimmjow following closely behind her. “You ready?” She questioned as she drew her sword from the neither-realm. 

“I was born ready.”  Grimmjow growled, drawing his own sword as he folded his wings carefully behind his back to avoid the strain on his ribs. 

Nel moved quickly, a smile gracing her lips as she raised her sword. She couldn’t hold back despite his injuries,  Grimmjow would hate her for that. Most demons feared destruction but she didn’t, part of her even longed for it; after all, balance and chaos were bound to each other. 

Eyes glowing a fierce blue,  Grimmjow dashed forward and swung for her head. But Nel was ready for it, she leapt away, swinging her blade in a flat arc. The dull edge of the blade connected harshly with  Grimmjow’s ribs. “Too slow Grimmie.” She taunted as she sprang away, the green of her aura whirling around her like a skintight dress.

Grimmjow screamed in agony as his mangled ribs got hit. Snarling, he sprang back up and surged forwards toward the demon standing before him. “I’ll kill you!” He growled out between clenched teeth. 

“That’s good, release that anger” Nel said, pulling her blade in to block  Grimmjow’s downwards strike. Don’t hold back rage, she’d learned that lesson the hard way after she tried to calm him down the first time. But after every encounter with  Aizen , it only got worse. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could help him that way. She didn’t know why, but the aura she was used to feel from  Grimmjow felt different, he was destruction but this was something else. She wasn’t sure what caused it, either the increasing torments of the Dark Lord or something else but the demon was on his way to self-destruction.

Grimmjow indulged all the rage he had, claws itching to tear through flesh and teeth desperate for blood. “Why me?” He snarled, trusting his double-edged sword forward again. He wasn’t strong  enough; he would never be good enough.

Nel dodged to the side, desperate to avoid the reckless trust but it was too late, the serrated edge of the blade tore through the skin on her thigh. She stumbled backwards, wincing when she shifted weight onto her wounded leg. But she didn’t have time to tend to the wound , she swung her blade out to the left, barely in time to block another strike of  Grimmjow’s blade.

Grimmjow’s deep snarl cut through the air, glaring at Nel in hate. “What the hell did I ever do to deserve this?” He screamed and raged, striking blindly at his opponent. It wasn’t fair, he was stronger than this, why did it hurt so much?

Nel whirled around, counterattacking  Grimmjow mid trust. She slammed him harshly down into the rock debris with all of her strength. “Because you’re strong, you always fight back!” She said sharply , fisting her hand into his collar. 

Grimmjow pushed at her shoulder. “Get the fuck off!” He snapped. “I’m not strong enough.” His chest heaved; tension grew in his limbs, his mind replaying the last attack from Aizen. There was nothing he could do so he screamed, he screamed and snarled while Nel held him down until his throat was hoarse from the strain and he went limp under her.

She got off, slowly letting him sit back up again. 

Grimmjow’s eyes widened, motioning to her bloody leg. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He lifted his hand to his head, dragging fingers through the messy strands in an attempt to smooth them out. He couldn’t remember hurting her like that. The idea to sink his claws into flesh briefly crossed his mind but he pushed that thought back down again.

“I know Grimm.” She said carefully, sinking to her knees in the dirt. She leaned closer, her head resting on  Grimmjow’s shoulder. “You’re strong, you know that.” Nel pointed out, sliding her hand onto his back. She could feel the muscles tensing under her soft touch but  Grimmjow allowed it for now. 

They sa t there together between the rocks for a long time, she didn’t press him to speak, she was just there, a silent companion in the darkness.

Grimmjow was the first to break the silence. “Have you ever wondered if there’s something more than this?” He mused, tilting his head to the side. 

“What do you mean?” She questioned, stroking nails across  Grimmjow’s back. 

Grimmjow sighed , blue eyes locking onto hazel ones ; he hated sharing his thoughts but somehow it was different with Nel. “I know we’re just demons but are we really doomed to all this misery? Is this all that I deserve?”

Nel gazed over  Grimmjow’s face. For a moment he let her see the sorrow on his tired face, scars that etched the pain of years of violence, once vibrant blue eyes, now dark and glossy. It was the face of one who knew he must despair but knowing that didn’t soften the desolation. 

“I see both dark and light.” Nel began. “Good and evil only exist through perspective, and you’re not bound to one sole perspective, you’re allowed to switch back and forth.” She grabbed  Grimmjow’s face with both hands and pulled him closer, her lips inches away from his. “Choose your own path Grimm, there’s more than this...you deserve so much more.” She whispered, closing the distance between them. She kissed him, slow and soft. Just a small peck, her way of showing him there’s more than pain and violence. 

Grimmjow indulged it for a momen t, her aura warm and soothing, before he pulled away again.

“I’ll kill you if you ever speak about this.”  Grimmjow growled out, turning his head to the side. He hated how she always managed to make him so vulnerable, so weak. And yet, a part of him felt more manageable, his pain a little more  bearable . 

Nel laughed. “You know I’ll never betray your trust Grimmie.” She stood up, wiping some of the dried blood of her leg before she continued, “All those things that hurt you, I can feel them swirling in your  aura .”  She reached her hand out, the smile she gave him was wide.  Grimmjow hesitated for a moment before he took it and let her pull him up. “But I can also feel what’s going to happen. Fight for it  Grimmjow , fight and someday you’ll set yourself free.” 

“Tsk.”  Grimmjow scoffed, still holding onto her hand, he didn’t want to let her go yet. “No wonder nobody else likes you, you sound like a bad oracle.” He grinned, releasing her hand and elbowing her in the side. 

Grimmjow spread his wings and kicked off the ground. ‘Come on, let’s go back.”


	5. In the orbit of destiny

As time dragged its heels, Grimmjow did what was expected from him; spreading chaos and destruction across the land. But lately, that annoying angel seemed to interfere with his plans. At first, it was rather fascinating to meet someone who dared to stand up, who fought against him but now, the orange -haired angel was starting to be a real threat. 

“Oh, come on, you again?” Grimmjow growled, surging forward with a loud cry. He was right in the middle of tempting some human asshole into stealing crops from his neighbor when that angel showed up to prevent exactly that. 

“Do the heavens have nothing better to do than interfering with me?” Grimmjow questioned as he swiveled around with a harsh snap of muscle, the clawed tips of his black wings slicing through Ichigo’s thigh. The sight of the angel grimacing in pain while blood ran in thick rivulets across his weird black loose pants pleased him. It looked a little like those pants the humans wore while horse riding, Grimmjow couldn’t comprehend how that thing sat comfortable enough to fight in. 

Ichigo just shrugged, tearing the torn strip of fabric from his pants and revealing a toned thigh. He glanced down at the large gash, that one was definitely going to hurt for a while. “Heaven is boring.” He said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

“I am not something to pass your time with!” Grimmjow roared, teeth bared like a wild animal. He dashed towards the angel, swinging his fist up to connect with Ichigo’s face. He wasn’t some plaything !

Ichigo caught his arm mid-air, stopping the demon’s attack effortlessly. He took advantage of the demon’s confusion and pulled him closer, slamming his head into Grimmjow’s. “Maybe I like fighting you!” He screamed, staggering back from the blow. Was that what this was? Something about the blue-haired demon compelled him, drove him to come back again and again. Maybe it was that darker voice deep inside? It seemed to grow louder and more restless every time he got around the demon. Or did he really just like fighting him?

*** 

As time moved by, the last chills of winter were pushed back by the strong rays of sunlight. The breath of winter didn’t affect an immortal creature, nonetheless,  Ichigo was grateful for the warmth of spring. He loved flying over the lush green lands of the humans; where fields full of poppies stretched as far as he could see. The spring flowers were like his passion; in the silence of nature, they grew fierce and strong, blessing the cold land with heaven’s love. Ever since he’d met the demon, those dark whispers in his mind had become stronger. He hated it at first, hated that stupidly grinning asshole, a despise he wasn’t sure if it was justified or just born from presumptions. The demon was strong and stubborn, always ready for a challenge. And as much as he loathed him at first, he’d become mesmerized by the way the demon moved; brutal and chaotic at first but there was a subtle elegance to every blow. His moves calculated and precise despite his nature and  Ichigo found himself gravitating towards the demon the more he caught his attention. It started with a weird tingle of curiosity towards the demon. How were they different? Were demons really that bad? His aura spiked as he soared over the land, hues of red growing stronger and more restless as the moon rose higher. He wanted answers to those questions but the more he thought about it, the more he only came to the same conclusion;  _ maybe they weren’t so different after all... _

** *

For an ageless creature like himself, time seemed to drag on forever, a meaningless existence in an endless world of pain. He watched it slip through his fingers like sand, so much time  wasted just surviving and existing, never truly living. But ever since he’d met the angel, time seemed to fly across the empty horizon and that annoying carrot top popped up everywhere he went. At first, he hated it, but as the moons passed, he even looked forward to fighting him again.

“Fuck, you here again?” Grimmjow snarled, spreading his wings in treat. “I know I’m good looking, but this is getting ridiculous. You follow me around like you’re my personal guardian angel.” Grimmjow grinned, lowering himself into a fighting stance. 

“What?!” Ichigo’s scowl snapped to the blue-haired demon’s face. What was that blue-haired asshole saying? He wasn’t some stupid angel following him around everywhere like a mother  keeping an eye on an unruly child. The audacity! Actually, that was exactly what he was doing, but there’s no way in hell Grimmjow could know that. 

Ichigo’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I’m just giving you want you want, having your ass kicked by an angel.” He laughed, swiveling around with a powerful snap of his wings and blocking Grimmjow’s attack mid punch. 

***

Grimmjow folded his wings behind him, his feet touching down on land again without a single sound. The demon cracked a sharp grin as he walked towards the house he’d been observing for the past days. It was quite a marvelous house, with big stone walls that stood steadfast, towers that watched over the land and stone steps leading up to the massive oak doors. He didn’t understand the human need to sit in such a dark and damp fortress, collecting all the shiny metal they could find so they could live their feeble short lives in fear of someone taking all that wealth away again. It all seemed so pointless: locking themselves away when they could have so much freedom.  Grimmjow would give it all just to have  a taste of  that freedom.

But the large mansion wasn’t his goal. The demon’s next victim sat outside the walls, her back pressed against the rough stone and her dark green dress muddied from her run through the fields. The demon moved closer until he could see the pain on her innocent face. She sobbed quietly, hands clenching the trim of her dress. 

The demon leaned in his hand ghosting through her raven black hair like a breeze of wind playing with the long locks.

_ “You should murder him,”  _ Grimmjow whispered softly. _ “Kill that cheating bastard then take your own life.”  _

Her tears stopped, for a moment she looked confused but then the idea hit her.

_ “Yes, good.” _ Grimmjow continued his persuasions.  _ “Slit his throat in his sleep.”  _

“That’s not very creative.” A familiar voice chuckled behind him. 

Grimmjow snapped around with fury, rage screeching in his mind with a need for violence. 

“What the fuck are YOU doing here?”  Grimmjow growled. “She’s mine!”

Ichigo cocked his head to the side. “Nothing, I just saw your ridiculous blue hair sticking out like a sore thumb, that’s all.” He leaned back against the stone wall, crossing his arms and looking all smug. 

“Fuck off.”  Grimmjow hissed, baring his teeth. He had no doubt that the angel wouldn’t go easily. Part of him even hoped that  Ichigo would stay and fight him again.

“I’m not going anywhere .”  Ichigo’s voice was firm but there was a slight spark of amusement in his eyes. “I’m just here to watch those banal blandishments of yours. Now please, go on,  _ entertain me!”  _

“Banal?”  Grimmjow barked. “Her asshole husband beats her and has a mistress. She has to kill him and take her own life before she’s hung for that crime.” 

Grimmjow stepped close to the angel, curling his lip in an angry sneer. “ _ Or do  _ _ you have a better idea?”  _

Ichigo leaned forward, his face inched away from the demon. “Watch this.” He ordered before disappearing into a whirl of red. 

Before  Grimmjow could question  what the angel was up to, he appeared again next to the woman. He couldn’t quite see what  Ichigo was doing, he wondered if he should interrupt the angel. This was his victim, his prey after all. But the truth was, he was far too curious to know how this was going to end, he could fight him later on.

Ichigo turned away from her, and after a confused moment,  Grimmjow followed him. 

“Are you going to tell me already what you did?  Grimmjow sneered, clenching his fists. 

Ichigo turned to face him, grabbing something out of his pocket to give to the demon. 

“What’s this?”  Grimmjow asked, turning the little glass bottle around in his hand. It looked like plain water. He took the cap off and sniffed. “It doesn’t smell like anything?” 

Ichigo grinned. “Of course not, it’s untraceable poison.” 

“Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me that first? What if I’d drank from it?”  Grimmjow screeched, dumping the bottle back into  Ichigo’s hands like it burned him.

Ichigo shrugged. “Would’ve saved me the trouble of trying to kill you.” He wasn’t planning on killing the demon in such a lowly way, but the look on Grimmjow’s face was priceless. 

“Oi,  you little sneaky shit,”  Grimmjow grunted, punching  Ichigo’s shoulder. 

Ichigo turned to face the demon, tilting his chin slightly up so he could look  Grimmjow in the eyes. “You made a promise, remember?”  Ichigo questioned, never breaking eye contact. “We’re going to fight each other for eternity until you manage to kill me.”

“Did you really think I would murder you in such a foul way? He pondered”, grabbing  Grimmjow by the horn. “Listen to me, stubborn blue asshole. A promise may not mean shit to you, but to me it does! So, we’re  gonna have our fight, but not today, today we save this woman!”  Ichigo stated, releasing his hold on the demon.

“Tsk.”  Grimmjow scoffed. “If she poisons her husband, she’s just going to get sentenced to death for it. How is that so different from my approach?” 

“Ah, you see.”  Ichigo began, flaunting his little bottle once more. “This isn’t just poison; this is my personal creation. It’s called Aqua  Tofana .

Grimmjow furrowed his brows. “And what’s so special about it?” The dirty side of the angel actually surprised him, poisoning someone didn’t seem very angelic. 

“It’s tasteless and undetectable in post-mortems and it works slow. Her husband will just look like he’s suffering from an illness.”  Ichigo threw the bottle at the demon and turned his back. “Make sure she finds this and gives it to him. He’ll die a slow, agonizing death.” 

Grimmjow gave the bottle a good look as the angel walked away. He wasn’t going to admit it, but this was a much better plan than his persuasions. 

“Oi, carrot top!”  Grimmjow roared, making  Ichigo look back over his shoulder. “You’re rather devilish for an angel. He commented, “I like that.” He liked that a lot actually, and as  Ichigo disappeared into the sky, he wondered if there was more to him than just righteous and good.

***

“Fuck, Ichigo, you’re making me sick with all that love is patient crap.” A low thundering voice growled right behind his head. Perched up against a nearby tree, he’d been listening to the angel rambling against some pitiful humans for a while now.

“What the...” Ichigo screamed, twisting around so fast he almost dislocated his shoulder. “Stupid, fucking demon!” He snapped, eyes seething with anger. "Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“What are you anyway?” Grimmjow asked, giving him a good once over. “You the angel of love or something?” He spat, tilting his head to the side. Love, those words held such a nasty vile taste. He looked away, afraid to hear the answer. He didn’t want to know it, they were different like night and day, love was something he didn’t know how to handle. 

Blinded with anger, Ichigo surged forward and smacked Grimmjow into the ground. “I am not the angel of love!” He snarled, fisting his hands into the demon’s black top. “I am nothing like that feathered freak!” He growled, his legs now on either side of the demon. “I am passion! I burn with a fire few can handle.” He flared his wings open. Grimmjow could only stare in awe at that display of raw power; muscles rippling with every move as sharp feathery wings glistened a deep reddish-brown under the gleaming sun. “Yet none can resist.”

“You.” He warned the oblivious demon. “Have no idea of what I am!” Ichigo growled, accentuating his words with a harsh shove into Grimmjow’s chest. “I am the darkest side of life.” Pleased rage ran through his body at the sight of the demon under him like that; trapped and at his mercy. He would look good covered in sweat, begging for him to- What was he even thinking? He couldn’t do this, this wasn’t right. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t...” In a flash of red aura, the angel was gone, leaving nothing but a bewildered demon behind. 

Grimmjow scrambled to his feet. Who the fuck did that angel think he was? Running away without an explanation, without a fight. He flexed his claws a few times, next time he wouldn’t be so calm. 

***

The world was drenched in black, it swirled around him like a soft velvety blanket. Ichigo embraced it and focused on that power deep within him. It always whispered in the back of his mind, laying low until the time was right, but now it was screaming;  _ A body worshipped by the sun, but a soul shaped by the moon... king! _

A shiver ran across Ichigo’s spine and he felt himself being sucked into the darkness, it clung to him like tar, eating away at his soul until there was nothing left. One moment he was rushing forward, streaks of black blurring by as he fell down, faster, then slower until there was nothing but two blue specks of light shining brightly from the dark. He reached his hand out, trying to get closer to the mesmerizing light. As he got closer, the light shone brighter, transforming into smooth skin.  Strands of bright blue familiar hair came into his vision. Grimmjow! A pair of rough hands engulfed him, caressing every inch of his naked body. A sharp canine flashed in the dark before a hot tongue invaded his mouth. Ichigo wrapped his arms around the body before him, claws scratching into a  broad back. Grimmjow’s mouth roamed over his neck, a hot breath washed over his throat, too hot, Ichigo felt like he was on fire, cheeks burning as if stricken by fever. His body aching and sweating, like the fires of hell were scorching him alive.

With a loud cry, Ichigo woke up from his sleep. He sat up, his heart still pounding in his chest from that vivid dream. He could feel those hands ghosting over his back, Grimmjow’s hands. Why was he dreaming about that stupid asshole? He leaned forward, sliding a hand through his sweat-slicked hair and along the back of his neck. The warmth of Grimmjow’s body still clinging to him like a weird memory. Ichigo shook his head, trying to clear those thoughts from his head, he couldn’t possibly be in love, it was just something in those cerulean eyes. Ichigo let out a heavy breath, laying himself back down again. He turned onto his side, tightening his arms around his chest in an attempt to push those feelings down but his mind kept wandering. He was a demon, everything about him was wrong; he was stubborn, aggressive,  _ and the way those toned muscles moved- _ Oh fucking hell, Ichigo groaned. Fine, the asshole was attractive in a wild raw way, maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. Fuck and get it over with or something.  _ Oh fuck,  _ Ichigo growled, turning to push his face into the covers, now he was thinking about sex...That wasn’t helpful at all. He could feel the hardening bulge stirring in his linen underpants. He squeezed his legs together, no way he was going to jerk off to the thought of that perfectly shaped ass in tight leather pants...  _ how his cock would look between those cheeks, sliding in and out...  _ Ichigo whimpered, squeezing even harder, fuck- this was going to be a long night. 


	6. This onward reach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically more confused idiots xD

“Why did you run away last time?” Grimmjow demanded, his eyes burning with hatred. “Don’t look down on me like that.” He growled. “Or I’ll have to kill you.” 

Ichigo swallowed something he didn’t dare to acknowledge. He was trapped under the demon who had him pinned against the ground; demanding answers he didn’t even know how to answer himself. 

“That’s none of your business!” Ichigo snarled, his voice thick. He turned his head to the side, afraid to look into those fierce eyes, afraid that Grimmjow would see right through him. He felt the weight of the demon shift onto his hips and he froze. He felt claws dragging over his abdomen, threatening to tear into flesh, then moving down to dig into his hip bone. Ichigo gasped, rolling his hips slightly as Grimmjow’s claws drew blood. This was wrong, but everything about it turned him on. His mind screamed warnings but his body screamed his want, his passion. 

“Look at me Ichigo!” Grimmjow demanded, his claws gripping into the soft skin. Why was the angel so quiet underneath him? He was used to a fierce attitude, to Ichigo fighting him every time they met but this was different. There was no fire pulling him in and burning him when he got too close. His eyes usually glowing fiercely bright, now dull and glazed and devoid of something he couldn’t even place. 

Ichigo swallowed harshly, ignoring his feelings for now, he snapped his gaze back to the demon looming above him. “I don’t know why I ran!” Ichigo croaked, sounding more emotional than he wanted. He hated his own virtue for making him feel so much. Passion wasn’t a blessing, it was an awful curse, one that consumed him until he lost sight of his inner reasons. 

“Kindle that anger.” Ichigo hissed. “Kill me as you promised, you have me at your mercy, now finish it.” He demanded, baring his throat. 

“Destruction does not bow down to the whims of an angel!” Grimmjow growled out, his hand coming up to grab Ichigo’s throat and squeezed. He hated it, everyone tried to order him around. But something in those warm golden eyes stopped him, he couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing those eyes again. 

Without warning, he pulled his hand away and rolled off the angel, settling himself onto his back next to Ichigo. “If I’m going to kill you, it’s going to be in an evenly matched fight, I have no desire to murder you without a fight.” 

“I knew it.” Ichigo mused, turning onto his side so he could face the demon.

“Knew what?” Grimmjow bit out, glaring in hellish fury at the angel. If he could just wipe that smug smile from the angel’s face and beat the arrogance out of him.

The confident smile Ichigo shot him made his stomach tense with unease. He knew already what the angel meant, but hearing it made it so much harder. Why didn’t he kill him? Was he fucked? Probably, but he didn’t care. 

“You’re not going to kill me,” Ichigo said, staring down at him with eyes burning brighter than molten metal. 

Heart pounding, Grimmjow tensed,  _ chaos _ . Chaos in his head, in his heart. Oh, he wanted to kill Ichigo, carve his claws deep into the angel’s flesh but part of him didn’t really want that. It was confusing. He sucked in a breath and sat up, turning his back to Ichigo. It felt wrong, turning your back to an enemy, but looking into those eyes felt even worse. 

“How can you be so sure?” Grimmjow asked, baring his teeth in defense. Against what exactly he couldn’t place. Maybe against the angel’s brash attitude? Maybe against his own chaotic thoughts? 

“Because we’re not that different.” Ichigo confided, letting his eyes roam over Grimmjow’s back. With his wings now hidden between realities, Ichigo could see how broad those shoulders actually were, the muscles straining against the tight black fabric of that ridiculous short top.  _ Letting his hands roam over that broad back, claw between those shoulder blades...  _ Ichigo shook his head, why was he thinking about that? 

Grimmjow let out a bark of laughter. “Not that different.” He mocked, turning his head to face Ichigo. “Look at me!” Grimmjow snapped, drawing out his demon wings. “Everything about me screams different. I’m not some prissy angel, I’m a sinner lost inside my misery.” Grimmjow growled, flaring his wings in threat. “How is that not different?”

Ichigo sighed. “You want to know why I ran?

When Grimmjow just nodded after a moment of confused s ilence, he continued. “I ran because I lost control of my desires.” 

“What do you mean?” Grimmjow asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t understand what Ichigo meant. They weren’t the same, they would never be the same. 

“Fuck,” Ichigo growled, dragging a hand through his hair. Why was this so hard? “When I had you under me, I liked that okay, I liked that a lot. And I ran because that desire scared me.”

“I don’t get it. Were you going to finish me like that? Kill me in a moment of weakness?” Grimmjow scoffed. “There’s no honor in that.” 

Was the demon really that stupid? Or was this all something in his own head? He’d seen how those cerulean eyes lingered too long, how Grimmjow always sought him out. Grimmjow’s ignorance made him  oddly frustrated. The reality that this thing was just a fantasy from his own mind felt like ice in his veins. 

Slowly, Ichigo stood up, stretching his wings up and behind him in a feathery display of power. 

“Let my words dwell into your mind for I didn’t mean to kill you my oblivious demon.” Ichigo roared out, beating his wings downwards and pushing himself up from the ground. 

***

Grimmjow was furious. Once again, the orange-haired angel ran away from him. He clenched his teeth, pacing around in the confines of his room. Ichigo didn’t want to kill him? What else could he possibly mean? He’d been mulling over it for hours but he couldn’t find an answer. Finding more questions than answers was infuriating. “The angel of passion!” Grimmjow growled out, punching at a stone pillar, his fist connecting harshly with the rough surface in a clash of bone and rock. His knuckles split under the force but Grimmjow didn’t register the pain, his rage falling away as a sudden thought hit him harshly. 

_ When I had you under me, I liked that...  _ He couldn’t possibly mean  _ THAT. _ Suddenly it all made sense; those warm golden eyes lingering on his body, taking in everything they saw. It wasn’t looking for a sign of weakness, it was desire. 

Unsure what to do with that newfound thought, Grimmjow stood in place, looking down at his bruised hand as if it held all the answers.

That didn’t happen. Grimmjow walked to the end of his chambers, taking off his clothes and stepping down into the hellfire pool. He submerged himself into the water, letting the hellfire wash over his tired body. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He focused on the prickling sensation of the hellfire washing away the blood from his hand, anything to force the chaos in his mind to calm down. Grimmjow grit his teeth, that angel couldn’t be serious. Why would a creature born from the heavens want him? He was just some lowly demon, a creature born from destruction. And yet, a part of him couldn’t help but wonder; what if? Maybe this was what  Nel meant? Could Ichigo be his way out? He sank his head underwater and he screamed, screamed until all the air left his lungs and he had to surface again. But he only felt the sharp sting of anger, he couldn’t be friends with Ichigo, he couldn’t trust anyone, it would be safer, easier to push him away. He knew he was hiding a harsh truth from himself, one that spoke of scars that wouldn’t heal. Yet, he didn’t dare to acknowledge his own feelings, he’d just have to push those thoughts deep down and figure it out somehow.

***

The air that left Ichigo’s lips was slow as if he needed that moment to process his thoughts. A full moon had passed since his last encounter with the demon but he couldn’t face Grimmjow ever since. Dragging a hand through his disheveled hair, he leaned forward, folding his wings around him. He couldn’t look Grimmjow in the eyes, they blazed brighter than anything holy God had ever made. Every glance drew him in even further, tempting him to explore the emotions swirling in their depths. 

Ichigo hated it, his nights were long and filled with visions of sapphire blue, his days dull and endless. He was angry at himself for feeling so much. Angry at the heavens for cursing him with this passion, angry at Grimmjow for being so damn oblivious. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and called upon his aura. Darkness flooded his veins as streaks of crimson swirled around him. Indulging in his power usually felt good, but this time it didn’t bring him the satisfaction of being strong, this time it only brought more pain. A distorted scream forced itself from his throat as if his soul tried to unleash his own demons. 

He didn’t know why but the passion he felt around Grimmjow was different, more intense. He was used to living with a blazing heart, bravely giving himself to the throws of passion, whether it was good or bad, male or female, he didn’t care. He gave himself completely, a fierce, passionate love for one or two nights before he moved on again, searching for another brief moment of divine warmth. But Grimmjow was different. He didn’t want to be with the demon for a short moment, use him and move on like he always did. He wanted more. Was that selfish? Maybe, but he wanted a chance to take away the pain hidden in those cerulean eyes, a change to break down his boundaries and show Grimmjow what passion really was.

He dragged a hand across his arm, claws slicing through the skin in an attempt to distract his mind. It didn’t help, the pain only made it worse, the ghosting touch of wicked claws digging into his hips still etched into his memory. 

***

Grimmjow soared over the land, flying around without a clear goal in mind. It felt like ages since he’d last seen Ichigo. Ever since their last encounter, the angel was nowhere to be found. After months of getting followed by him, his sudden absence now felt weird. He longed for their fights, Ichigo was a welcome distraction from his pained existence. A challenge he was more than happy to take. And now he was gone, leaving him with nothing more than a strange ache in his chest. 

Without realizing it, his flight brought him to unfamiliar territory; where the trees grew thinner and the river sloped around the hill. Eventually, exhausted muscles demanded him to touch down for some rest. At the edge of the forest, the ruins of a castle appeared in sight. The perfect place to take some much-needed rest, Grimmjow thought , circling lower. As the demon slowly began his descent, something bright sitting on the top of the wall caught his eye. 

“Oh, hell no!” What the fuck was that angel doing here? Ichigo had left him with a lot of questions and it frustrated him to no end.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Grimmjow bellowed from the sky, landing next to the angel with a harsh smack.

Ichigo turned slowly but he couldn’t completely suppress the sadness in his eyes, the golden brown now dull and devoid of that fire Grimmjow knew all too well.

“ Drop it Grimmjow,  Ichigo mumbled, turning away from the demon. “ I’m not in the mood for fighting .”

“ No !” Grimmjow snarled, balling his fists. He wanted to punch the angel, slice his claws through him but one look at Ichigo’s miserable face was enough to make him doubt those thoughts. 

“You don’t get to drop something like that and then just leave.” Grimmjow began. The demon stepped closer, flaring his black wings. “Why didn’t you want to kill me back then? You could’ve  done it easily. Grimmjow snapped, yanking Ichigo up and closer. “You’re always holding back on me; I can feel it. why? I don’t need an angel's pity.”

“God no, I don’t take pity on you.” He swallowed the rest of his words, not sure if he wanted Grimmjow to know how he felt.

“Then why? Explain it to me”, Grimmjow hissed, his face inches away from the angel’s. Because I don’t understand it at all.”

“Fine.” Ichigo relented, his eyes fixing on Grimmjow’s.

“I want you to get stronger...I need you to get stronger damn it.” Ichigo shouted, his hand coming up between them and fisting into Grimmjow’s black top. The angel had enough of Grimmjow accusations, he didn’t know how hard it was to live with this curse. “I want you to keep your promise.” Ichigo ushered, averting his eyes. He swallowed harshly, why was this so difficult? He knew exactly what he wanted, but taking it was something he didn’t dare to do.

Grimmjow shook his head, releasing his hold on Ichigo. You want me to actually kill you?  That’s fucked up. Grimmjow lowered his wings, folding them behind his back. “Why would you want that?” 

After a moment of silence, Ichigo continued, “Come lay with me Grimmjow.” He ushered, gesturing to what was left of the watchtower floor. 

“Isn’t that a bit too soon?” Grimmjow grinned, revealing his sharp teeth. “We hardly know each other and you want me to destroy that angelic ass of yours?” 

“Oh, fuck you” Ichigo snapped, scowling at the demon like he owned him.

“Come here and fuck me yourself you coward!”

“That’s not what I... I mean…”Ichigo spluttered, gesturing wildly with his arms. “Aargh, you're impossible!” The angel shrieked. He hoped Grimmjow didn’t notice the blush he felt creeping up, but judging from his wild grin, he had. If he could just disappear and never talk to that demon ever again.

“I know.” Grimmjow finally admitted, having some mercy for the angel. Sighing softly, he turned to face Ichigo. “But you’re not running away.” He stated as a matter of fact. “You choose to keep up with it, with me,  _ willingly. _ ”

Ichigo dragged a hand through his  hair,  finally looking back up at those cerulean eyes. “ You’re not running away either. 

Grimmjow swallowed the nausea he felt rising. Why did he stay? Why did he always look for Ichigo? Was it just the challenge or was there something more to it? He realized he had no idea why and this was all new to him.

“Guess we're both fucked up.” Grimmjow growled out, folding his legs under him he leaned back on his elbows. 

Ichigo flopped down next to the demon in a silent agreement. He folded his wings and tucked them close,  shifting his body to lie on his back. He groaned and wiggled before he finally found a position comfortable enough for his wings. With his arms now up and under his head, he started talking. 

“You know,”  Ichigo began, gazing up at the blue sky.  “Heaven isn’t all goodness and peace. It’s lonely too.” 

“What do you mean?”  Grimmjow asked. “Isn’t it all feathers and rainbows up there?” All his life, he’d been told about the magnificent settlements between the clouds; where the angels lived in richness and peace while the demons suffered beneath the earth. 

“Tsk.”  Ichigo scoffed. “Sure, it’s nice if you behave and do what they say. But it’s not what I truly crave, it’s not freedom.

Ichigo’s voice grew darker. “They want to bound my heart with conditions until it loses all of its passions. Why do you think I roam the earth so much? It’s nothing but a pretty golden cage up above the clouds.” 

“I’m tired of pretending, of hiding my true self.”  Ichigo hissed between clenched teeth. A ripple of power ran over his skin and the sudden slip on his control frustrated him even more. He wasn’t ready yet to show  Grimmjow that side of him, but the power lurking beneath his skin was restless, begging to be released.

“That’s pretty fucked up.”  Grimmjow murmured. He’d understood it all too well. That need to roam free, to do as you please. It was a desire that ran deep, fueled by pride and a strong will. 

A sudden  thought hit his mind. “So, that’s why you want to get killed. You’re looking for an easy way out.”  Grimmjow spoke, his voice hard and accusing. 

Ichigo sat up and moved closer. “If I wanted easy, I would’ve done it myself.” He lifted a hand to reach for  Grimmjow’s cheek, a thumb ghosting over the faint lines of his  estigma . “You’re the only one I deem worthy enough to do it, that’s why I want you to get stronger.” 

Those words triggered a rage he no longer could hold back. “Coward!”  Grimmjow bellowed, curling his hand around  Ichigo’s throat and smacking him harshly down on the rough stone. 

A pained gasp escaped his throat but  Ichigo didn’t dare to look into those harsh blue eyes. He was tired of hiding, of being so alone. Deep down, he knew he was a coward but hearing it from someone else hurt even more.

He heard a throaty growl and before he could react, a jolt of pain shot through his head. “You can’t just give up like that!” Another fist landed with a thud on the angel’s face. “I won’t let you.” Grimmjow snarled, clenching his fists into  Ichigo’s brown top.

Ichigo wanted to say something, anything but the words died on his tongue at the sight of the seething demon looming above him. He’d given up and there was nothing he could say to justify that. 

“Talk to me, asshole!” The demon roared, pounding another fist down. “You said I was oblivious. Well, I’m here now, so talk!”  Grimmjow demanded, his eyes hard as steel.

Ichigo grunted, spitting out the blood from his busted lip before he finally found the courage to say something. “I gave up okay! What else do you want me to say...” Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. “I’m tired of carrying this burden.”  Ichigo rasped out between heaving breaths, “I’m tired of being all alone...” 

Grimmjow knew that all too familiar feeling.  _ Loneliness.  _ A darkness that slowly spread further every day. If he died, nobody would care, he meant nothing to anyone. His anger fell away, replaced by a sudden understanding. Slowly,  Grimmjow moved his hand to cup  Ichigo’s face, his thumb  whipping away a wet tear. 

“You know, hell is  lonely too.”  Grimmjow murmured, releasing his hold on the angel. He rolled off  Ichigo and settled himself onto his back beside the angel. “You don’t have to be alone; I’ll fight you as long as you keep up with me, I won’t let you give up.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?”  Ichigo teased. 

“Both,”  Grimmjow assured him. “I’ll kick your ass for all eternity if that’s what it takes to make you stop moping.”

Ichigo smiled. “Deal.” He closed his eyes and felt a little bit less alone, a little bit more understood. 

After that, they both fell into a comfortable silence as the last sunrays stretched over the hills.  In that dusk, the presence of another beating heart so close to his felt heavy. A creature of warm blood and flesh lying next to him, next to a demon, without a care in the world. How could  Ichigo trust him like that? How could he be so sure he wasn’t going to murder him in his sleep? Despite his mind twisting and turning, his  consciousness finally ebbed away into slumber.

Grimmjow woke up from a restless sleep, something warm and heavy pressed against his side. Somewhere in the middle of the night,  Ichigo had rolled closer to the demon, his face pressed in the crook of his arm.  Startled by the closeness, he tried to move away but the pounding in his heart made him stop. Under the moon speckled darkness, the angel looked eerily calm; his features soft and devoid of that perpetual scowl he came to like. The cold light of the moon spilled across his chest and shoulders, bathing every harsh slab of muscle in diffuse light as if the moon payed homage to heaven’s greatest gift. 

Grimmjow turned to face the angel. He looked so peaceful, his breath steady and calm. He lifted a hand to  Ichigo’s head, gently caressing the orange locks. He looked so vulnerable... _ so easy to kill... _

That sudden thought frightened him. Chaos swirled in his head, yearning for the destruction of the oblivious creature next to him.

**_ Claws rendering through flesh... _ **

Grimmjow pulled his arm away, trying to still the trembling in his hand. He couldn’t do this, this wasn’t right. 

**_ It would be so easy, choke him in his sleep...  _ **

No... Grimmjow thought, turning away from the angel. ‘I’m sorry  Ichigo .” He whispered, glancing back one more time before he was gone in a flash of blue aura. 

Upon awaking,  Ichigo noticed the absence of the demon. He didn’t expect him to stay but it still stung nonetheless. 

***


	7. Of blood and steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little more heated. *wiggles eyebrows*

Weeks went by before fate drew them towards each other again. 

“I can see that ugly orange hair glowing from miles away.” Grimmjow grinned, drawing forth his sword. “Let’s see how good your sword skills are.” 

“I’m a master of the sword,” Ichigo stated, whipping around to draw his sword. The sword was huge, almost as long as the angel himself. A pure white cloth wrapped itself around the hilt of the blade, it flowed from the handle and around the angel’s arm. Grimmjow thought it looked rather cheap actually. But the blade, on the contrary, was truly something otherworldly, tinged with something demonic, made in the flames of creation itself and tainted with the darkness. One would expect it to radiate with a vibrant intensity but it didn’t. Everything around it seemed to be drawn to it, even the light disappeared into the blade, absorbed by the obsidian steel. 

Grimmjow was a bit taken aback by the size of that thing, it was just huge. How could anything like that even be drawn swiftly in a fight? His own double-edged sword was already rather impressive and a perfect resemblance of his demon aspect. Everything about it screamed chaos and destruction, from the serrated edge on both sides ending in a split-tip to the jagged shape of the guard. Crackled lines flowed from the curved pommel to the center of the sword, they glowed an eerie cerulean when the demon’s aura flowed through it. But it was nothing compared to the massive black sword from  Ichigo, w hich glowed a menacing red when his aura danced across the blade’s edge. 

Ichigo’s blade warped the light as he brought it over his head and motioned the demon to come closer.

“What the hell...Are you trying to overcompensate for something with that oversized kitchen knife?” Grimmjow asked, swinging his own blue-glowing sword up.

“Well, why don’t you bend over for me and find out for yourself?” Ichigo taunted as both swords met with a resounding clash. 

Grunting, Grimmjow leaned back. The force of that blow surprised him, Ichigo wasn’t as muscular as him but he could hit hard. For a moment, cerulean eyes lingered on the way those muscles were drawn taut, straining against the leather bracers wrapped around his arms.

Grimmjow laughed, “That's cute.” Raising his sword again he continued, “assuming I'm going to be the one bending over.” Why was he even saying this? They had been dancing around each other like this for months, Grimmjow didn’t know anymore if this was all just some crazy tactic or if there was something else behind all these jokes and taunts. 

“Why don’t you stop flirting with me and start fighting.” Grimmjow dashed to the side, wings curling in on instinct as he avoided a downwards swing from Ichigo’s blade. “I know you’re holding back on me; I can feel it with every clash of our swords, there’s more power hiding inside that blade. Show me!” Grimmjow snarled, slashing down at Ichigo’s head. “Stop looking down on me!” 

“I’ll show you once you’re worthy of it.”  Ichigo taunted, blocking the  attack with a horizontal strike. “Besides, I don’t even need my sword to disarm you.” He smirked, driving the tip of his sword into the ground. 

Grimmjow’s eyes widened. “A-Are you stupid?” He stuttered, lowering his sword. “What if I kill you?” Part of him wanted to ruin Ichigo for being so bold, for daring to challenge him, but the other part wasn’t so sure about that. Pleased rage ran under his skin, he loved the way the angel could rile him up like that, hell, Ichigo even seemed to enjoy doing just that.

Ichigo’s lip curled up. “No, I’m just confident in my abilities.” It wasn’t a surprise to him that Grimmjow lowered his sword, he knew the demon wasn’t going to murder him, not when he was unarmed, he wanted a fair fight, like equals. 

Ichigo’s grin got wider. “What are you waiting for, come at me!”

Grimmjow stopped thinking, if Ichigo wanted to believe he could fight him barehanded, he would prove him wrong. Wings flared and sword raised, he surged forward with a loud cry.

In one agile movement, Ichigo somersaulted over the attacking demon. Grimmjow turned around with a harsh snap of his wings only to be met with the sight of a grinning Ichigo. 

Twisting at the waist, Ichigo grabbed the demon by the throat, slamming him harshly against a tree, his other hand grabbed a hold of a curved horn. “did you really think I was going to make this easy for you.” Ichigo challenged, his face inches away from the demon. 

Grimmjow laughed, pressing the serrated edge of his blade against vulnerable flesh. “I could take your head off with one slash.” 

“I know you won’t do that; I can see it in your eyes.” Ichigo smiled confidently. He loved playing with the demon, teasing, seeing how far he could go. 

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Grimmjow growled, pressing the blade harshly down onto soft tendons. 

“Let me repeat that, I know you won’t.” Ichigo confided, moving forward. They were pressed together from pelvis to chest.

“You like this game just as much as I do,” Ichigo grunted, grinding his hips slowly into the demon's. 

Grimmjow gasped, he could feel Ichigo’s arousal pressing against him. Hateful lust coursed over his skin. Oh-he wanted to destroy that cocky little shit, carve his sword deep into the angel’s chest until that arrogant grin was gone. But part of him enjoyed that boldness, he  _ loved _ how Ichigo could get under his skin like that.

“Dry humping my leg isn’t going to make me lose my sword.” Grimmjow noted. “But go on if it pleases you.” He grinned wildly. Why was he doing this? He should be pushing him away, not encouraging it.

“Your other sword seems to like it too,” Ichigo said, tilting his head to the side as another trust of his hips got the demon right - _ there. _

“You really want to do this with a sword threatening to slice your neck?” Grimmjow wondered, pushing the edges of the sword into bronze skin. Blood welled up from the cuts and trickled slowly across the angel’s collarbone. 

“Told you already....” Ichigo reminded him, his hand shifting to grab a hold of a large rough horn. He yanked the demon closer, “...you won’t kill me,” he murmured against plump lips.

Grimmjow gasped softly as Ichigo closed the distance between them. Confusion took over, what was happening? What they did was forbidden, every fiber of his body screamed rage and destruction and yet, a small part feared pushing him away because that would only cause more pain. He would eventually break Ichigo, because that’s what demons do. But then he groaned into it and kissed back. Grimmjow dug his fingers into corded back muscles, his claws slicing through the fabric as he slid them lower. Ichigo bared his teeth and hissed. “Mark me,  _ demon,  _ show me that passion.” 

Grimmjow’s answer came easily. Hand uncurling from his sword, it fell to the ground, momentarily forgotten as claws sank into vulnerable flesh. He was tired of pretending this was wrong, he wanted this and he was going to take it all. Grimmjow crushed his lips against the angel’s. Tongues slipped in between, devolving their kiss into something needy. 

Ichigo pulled back with a throaty growl, brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “You lost your sword, I win.” He smirked, pressing claws into the demon’s throat. 

Grimmjow let him for a moment until chaos invaded his mind. He rose up from the tree, towering above the angel, with brute  power he switched their positions and slammed  Ichigo against the rough bark. 

Ichigo groaned, surprised by the force of that blow. His wings painfully trapped between his back and the tree, he tried to get some leverage by dragging his claws across  Grimmjow’s back but it only served to fuel the demon’s anger. 

**_ He would look so good covered in blood, begging for his life... _ **

Dark thoughts churned in  Grimmjow’s mind; destroy,  _ destroy _ , DESTROY! The words echoing in his head like a demonic chant.  Golden brown eyes snapped to his, they seemed to bore into his soul, drawing him in and confusing his thoughts. He’d expected fear, disgust, those were things he could handle but he only saw desire and he wasn’t sure what to do with that.  Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, his claws outstretched and hovering over the soft expanse of  Ichigo’s throat. When had he moved his hand? 

They just stared at each other for what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than a few heartbeats. 

This was unfamiliar territory and anything was possible. His mind screamed warnings over and over again, begging to slash his claws into the creature before him, but his heart was confused, his heart ached and he didn’t know why. 

“I should hate you.”  Grimmjow growled, grinding his teeth in frustration. His hand trembled under the strain of holding back. His mind lost, overwhelmed by all the thoughts swarming around.

Ichigo stared back at him, his hand grasping onto the demon’s reaching hand. “This isn’t  hate .” He surmised, stroking his fingers  idly across the demon’s calloused hand.

Grimmjow flinched at those words and he did the only thing he could think of, he ran. 

From the shadows, something swirled and moved, its hauntingly yellow eyes lingering on the angel before they flickered out of existence. 

The demon surged over the land, away from  Ichigo , away from the confused feelings. He climbed the wind currents, high into the sunlit silence, until he felt he could almost touch the heavens. He was angry, angry at  Ichigo for making him feel these things, angry at himself for letting his guard down, angry at the world and he couldn’t tell why. He folded his wings tightly against his body and dove harshly down headfirst. The world rushed by in a blur and all he could do was scream and rage until he was mere meters above the tree line. Moments before he would crash, he opened his wings with a harsh snap, soaring across the trees at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the demon slowed down, his exhausted muscles demanding him to take a rest. By the time he set foot on land again, the sun was already low on the horizon, painting the sky in hues of bright orange.  Grimmjow swallowed harshly but no matter how hard he tried to suppress it; his thoughts kept going back to that orange-haired angel. 

_ Heartless.  _ He was a demon; he’d never felt anything for the countless people he’d hurt so why did the thought of hurting the angel feel so different?

_ Emotionless.  _ Demons had no need for emotions, __ they were only driven by the cause of their demise. So why did he feel so many things he couldn’t even name? It gripped his heart like a cold fist squeezing firmly until his heart couldn’t even beat. 

If this isn’t hating, what was it then? Maybe he was merely captivated by passion, and if he got too close to that orange flame, he would crash and burn. No matter how much he thought about it, he always came to the same conclusion; being healed by passion would break him, for to go to him is forbidden, yet staying away only brought pain. So, for now, he would have to remain locked into something that brings chaos and sorrow until his heart and mind knew what to do.


	8. Falling apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grimmjow falls deeper and deeper for Ichigo. Or read as hot jacking off action xD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a very huge thank you to Ficticiousdelicious! He helped me figure out all the feels of this scene since I lack uhm certain parts for that xD  
> I couldn't have done this without you *alien fistbump! 
> 
> This chapter was originally a lot longer but I decided to split it up into two parts. Part 9 is named Atrocious horror so that should give an idea of why it was better to split it ;-)

For hours, Grimmjow had dowsed his mind in endless possibilities and daydreams. Usually, the silence of his room was comforting; a place where he could put all the chaos to rest. He flopped onto his bed but this time it didn’t bring him peace, this time the silence screamed along with the churning thoughts in his head. Turning onto his side, he dragged a hand through his hair, the flickering light on the walls catching his attention. The flame of the candle burned bright; warm and defiant, burning everyone who got too close. It reminded him of Ichigo. How those golden eyes glowed just as bright, drawing him in every time he dared to look. _“Ichigo,”_ he whispered into the silence, the name heavy on his tongue and yet, feeling like it always belonged there. 

Would he whisper his name in the same way? Grimmjow groaned, recalling the feeling of those lips pressed against his, of that muscular body grinding into him. Would he be quiet or would he moan his name over and over again like a sinful curse? 

Grimmjow sneered at that, _fucking hell why was he thinking about this?_ Nothing about this was right, he couldn’t have Ichigo. His mind knew this was wrong; he shouldn’t indulge in this. Too late Grimmjow realized he was getting hard, his cock trapped beneath that tight layer of leather. It wasn’t fair, an angel had no right to make him feel these things. Frustrated, Grimmjow threw his head back into his pillow, a sudden rush of heat going through his cock. He would punish Ichigo for making him feel all of these things the next time they’d meet, wipe that smug grin from his stupid face. Maybe he would finally shut up with a dick deep down his throat... 

His cock pulsed and he tightened his hand over the bulge in his pants enough to make him whimper. Would Ichigo be willing? Or would he have to hold a hand in his hair and force him on his knees? He pushed his hips up with every stroke of his hand across the fabric, desperate for more friction. If he closed his eyes, he could picture Ichigo’s face; drooling and flustered. _Shit_ , he would look so fucking sinful withGrimmjow’s cock deep into that angelic throat until tears streamed down his face. 

Grimmjow gasped, his cock straining against his stiff leather pants. _Fuck._ He curled his lip, flashing sharp canines against the empty cold air. Damn that angel for getting under his skin like that. He just wanted to feel that strong body against his again. 

Would Ichigo look at him with those same defiant eyes; daring him to never hold back just like in their fights? He groaned, remembering the feeling of the angel pinned underneath him, his hand grasping the sheets. Would Ichigo be fierce just like in their fights? Writhing underneath him with every touch? _Fuck_ , what was he even doing, was he really going to get off on the thought of something he wasn’t allowed to have? 

Frustrated, he lifted his hips of the uncomfortable bedding, pushing his pants far enough down to free his hard member. Grimmjow readjusted his position on the bed to shift his right leg up and open for a better view. Shame washed over him at the sight of his own cock laying heavy against his abdomen; it throbbed vigorously with the need to do something with it. The head flushed an angry darker purple and leaking precum. _Fuck,_ his body wanted this so much. 

He wrapped his fingers carefully around his cock with an unsure stroke, smearing his rather thick precum over the head and shaft. This was pathetic, jerking off to the thought of a goddamn angel. Grimmjow shamelessly hoped he had the same influence on Ichigo. 

He shifted his hips, his engorged cock sliding into his hand as his eyes travelled across the room. The flickering candle caught his eyes again, its orange glow dissolving the darkness. He felt the glow on his trembling body, his hand working his shaft with a torturously slow pace, the warmth bringing back memories, warm and cold-all at once, passion and destruction. 

“Fuck.” He hissed between clenched teeth as one memory in particular flooded his mind. Ichigo striking him down with those golden-brown eyes; pushing him into the dirt. Oh, how he hated it. Grimmjow twisted his hand around his cock, his palm brushing up against the head with just enough pressure to keep him hard. Those confident eyes were so much more than he could take. Grimmjow growled, frustrated that this felt so good. Damn it, he hated those eyes and yet he wanted Ichigo to lash out, to _destroy_ him. He moved his other hand down to cup his balls, fingers gently squeezing in a steady rhythm along with the hand sliding over his shaft. Grimmjow bit back a moan, angry that he had no choice but to keep on sinking deeper into that passion. He tightened the hand around his cock, his breath staggering in his throat. He was used to a life full of pain but somehow the pain was so much sweeter coming from that angel. 

Grimmjow turned his head to the side, his grip loosening to stroke calloused fingers along the ridges on the underside. He let out a heavy breath, his other hand moving up, sliding across the fabric of his black top. Why was he still clothed? Suddenly everything felt too constricting. No, Grimmjow shook his head slightly, he didn’t want to lay here completely naked, his body desperate for another touch. Fingers glided across the fabric instead, tugging at a nipple before moving down again to drag nails across his exposed abdomen. Claws pressed down, slicing through the vulnerable skin with ease. Blood welled up from the cuts, dripping slowly down his side and onto the covers. 

His grasp firmed up again and his pace quickened as he thought about Ichigo grabbing his horns and pulling him closer. His cock pulsed in his hand and more precum dripped down over his fingers; a shameful reminder of how much his body wanted this. He shifted his hips to slide his cock up and down into his hand with a desperate need of more, _faster._

_Fucking hell_ , Grimmjow damn near whined as the sensations raced up his spine, pain and pleasure; passion and destruction undeniably entwined. He dug his heels into the bedding, his back arching up with the desperate need to feel another body on top of him. He didn’t want to think about it, but he failed. Visions of Ichigo flashed through his mind; grinding his hips against him while Grimmjow’s sword threatened to slice through that angelic throat. _Fuck_ , he was so hard, so goddamn horny he forgot all doubt. He wanted more. He wanted to hear the sinful curses spilling from Ichigo’s sweet mouth. Grimmjow bit his lip, his hand clenching and loosening around his cock. He wanted to feel those soft lips stretched out around his cock; Ichigo on his knees, drooling as he struggled to take it all in. 

“Fuck.” Grimmjow cursed, he wanted to ruin the angel, he needed it so bad. His other hand moved up again, fingers wrapping around his own throat. He was so messed up. Claws pressed down with the intention to _destroy._

His cock throbbed in his hand and his strokes became harsher, almost _angry._ He could feel the pressure building inside of him but he couldn’t cum. He wouldn’t allow it, not yet. Grimmjow snarled. Fuck, he was such a mess; sweat dripped down from his trembling body, his bed stained with blood and precum. It was nasty and wrong but it felt so good. 

This angel was going to be the death of him, shit he would even beg Ichigo to drown him in this cursed passion. Grimmjow arched his back, bucking his hips to force his cock past the flesh of his tight hand as he remembered that wicked tongue invading his mouth, claiming him in ways he’d never felt before. Grimmjow growled, each rough slide of his palm and wild thrust of his hips making him more lost into the throes of passion. 

He and Ichigo were opposites, they weren’t allowed to interact, to feel these things but he couldn’t' stop thinking about it. Despite their differences, they gravitated towards each other. An unholy abomination corrupting one of God’s perfect creatures, it was a strange ache from deep within his soul. He wanted to take all the good in Ichigo and _destroy_ it. 

Frustrated, he ground his teeth, his strokes slowing down so he could tease the head of his cock. He held back a moan, the sound strangled in his throat. Fingers glided along the sensitive slit, fuck, this felt way too good. Ichigo was passion, a creature born from good, and he...He was just a demon; only born to destroy. He just wanted to slice his fucking claws through that soft perfect skin, carve deep into that flesh and see if Ichigo really had a sinful side. Thrust his cock into that sweet ass while blood spilled from his wounds. 

Grmmjow picked up the pace again, his hand a burning vice around his cock. It made him angry, rage rushed through his blood together with the burning lust. Ichigo wanted nothing more than to be passionately _destroyed,_ he could see it in the way those eyes burned right through him; begging for sin. A sharp gasp escaped his lips and his body shuddered with pleasure as he thought about the angel on his knees, sweat dripping from tan skin as he would pound into that perfect body. An angelic being moaning his name, wanting to be devoured. _Begging_ to be defiled. Grimmjow wanted to be the angel’s downfall, wanted to have every sweet piece for himself. But is wasn’t enough, would never be enough. He wanted to split him open, claw that beating heart from Ichigo’s chest and suck the blood right out of it. 

More precum spilled from his cock, making his grip slicker. The demon moaned a curse, his hand feverishly pumping up and down, all grace abandoned as he trusted into his own grasp like a wild beast rutting. 

_Fuck-_ What if he was the one on his knees? The thought of him submitting like that was completely ridiculous but not impossible. He felt a thrill of excitement pulsing through his veins, if Ichigo challenged him, he wasn’t going to back down from it. Grimmjow snarled, spreading his legs a bit wider as his body arched off the harsh, dusty bedding. 

Grimmjow removed his hand from his cock, spitting into his palm before moving back down to wrap slick fingers around his cock. What if Ichigo had him pinned to the ground, straddling his hips? A broken groan tore through his throat. 

_Oh fuck._ He huffed out, fisting his other hand into his hair with a desperate need. What if Ichigo had his hands in his hair, yanking hard or exposing his vulnerable throat? Would Ichigo grind his own hard cock harshly against his? What if Ichigo _destroyed_ him? The rage churning in his gut was maddening. Maybe in a strange turn of events, Ichigo felt those dark desires too. Maybe Ichigo would rake his nails into his back and claim Grimmjow like he owned him. His hand continued pumping his cock in harsh sloppy strokes as visions of himself underneath the angel swam through his mind. Would they clash swords first? Would Ichigo slam him into the dirt and overpower him? But he wasn’t about to just turn around and take it. Ichigo would have to fight for it, prove that he was worthy enough to dominate him. 

Just thinking about the angel had already turned him into a mess; drool ran from the corner of his mouth as a heavy snarl tore from his throat. _Fuck_ , he was a wreck. The hand around his cock was almost strangling, with every stroke up he swiped his slick thumb over the head. A demon damn near tormenting himself to the thought of sullying something so good, so _divine._ Blue locks clung to his skin in tangled sweaty strands, his cheeks flushed red and he couldn’t tell if it was lust or shame. His chest heaved rapidly between huffs of breath. A demon fucking an angel, it was absurd, completely impossible and yet, all he’d ever wanted in that moment. His strokes slowed down to rub his hand over the head of his cock, feeling the pleasure build up higher and his muscles tensing. 

Grimmjow failed to hold back a moan, his cock throbbing heavy into his hand and his balls drawn up to his body. - He was so damn close... 

“Fuuuck.” Grimmjow groaned, sliding the hand from his hair to his throat, squeezing it like he wanted Ichigo to do. He shifted his other hand lower around the shaft, pumping his cock faster with a twist of his wrist. Claws sank into his throat, blood running down from the cuts, his hand stroking up and over the glans. Hot fresh blood mixed with his sweat and a rumbling moan escaped his lips, the scent of his own destruction driving his heart rate up. He squeezed firmly with every upwards stroke, imagining himself frantically trusting into Ichigo’s tight ass. 

Spots appeared into his sight, and in that moment of painfully real pleasure, only those golden eyes burning into his remained. His chest heaved, every nerve on fire while he drowned into passion behind his closed eye lids. His hips moved faster, mirroring the desperate need to finally release. Grimmjow’s back arched, thrusting harshly with quick jerks into his hand and he opened his mouth to scream but all he could muster was a sharp exhale of breath. Hot spurts of cum shot out of his cock, staining his abdomen with thick spurts of semen. 

“Fuck, Ichigo!” He moaned, trembling from head to toe as if struck by lightning. 

An angry snarl left his throat and he squeezed the pressure out, clinging to that pleasured pain through waves of sinful bliss. Each wave followed by another weak trust of his hips and a spurt of cum dripping down from his cock. 

His chest heaving, Grimmjow allowed himself a moment to catch his breath. His eyes wandered across the room and he couldn’t stop the strange feelings in his chest. His room was cold and lifeless, the light of the candle long gone. His memories nothing more than just distant fantasies. The silence around him was cruel and deafening and for the first time in ages he truly felt alone. He desired things he couldn’t get; the warmth of Ichigo’s body, that fierce passion, but he didn’t deserve any of that. He craved something he’d never even had and there was nothing he could do but close his eyes and yearn for it. How could an angel do this to him? He shifted his legs so he could sit up, looking down in disgust at the mess he’d made. Cum and blood stained his abdomen and chest all over; cold and sticky, a painful reminder of just how low he’d fallen. How could an angel reduce him to this? What the hell was he even thinking, he had nothing to give to Ichigo besides pain and sin. He was just a demon and that’s all he’d ever be. 

Grimmjow bared his teeth in disgust, wiping the cum and other fluids off with his sheets. He couldn’t stop the rage swelling up in his guts. He swung his legs of the bed to stand up and get some fresh clothes. 

Once he was dressed and somewhat cleaned up, Grimmjow called upon his aura. Power spiked with the flare of his anger, corded muscles flexing and wings as dark as the night spreading out behind him. The teal estigma under his eyes smoldered bright, accentuating the blue fire in his eyes. Fury swept off him in ferocious waves, his soul craving only one thing now: _destruction._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have about 35k written already and will be uploading more chapters in the next weeks. This is going to be the first part of a larger series.


End file.
